


i don't wanna be without ya

by succulents_and_fairy_lights



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rated T for swearing, because i cannot stop myself from adding angst to anything, can someone clear this up for me, hmm, i know they went to collage together, is it an alternate universe tho?, only mild kissing nothing more, so i guess it's an alternate universe, the self indulgent bruharvey fic that randomly came to me, while i should've been working on my numerous WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succulents_and_fairy_lights/pseuds/succulents_and_fairy_lights
Summary: Harvey is a shining constant in Bruce’s life.The grass is green, the sky is blue, Harvey Dent will always be there for Bruce Wayne.Bruce doesn’t know what he’d do without him.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	i don't wanna be without ya

**Author's Note:**

> so I was just casually scrolling through @two-face-has-two-faces tumblr the other day and was STRUCK with inspiration. about a week and many words later, here we are! enjoy <3
> 
> warnings:  
> swearing, non graphic mentions of vomit (as someone who is very sensitive to that in any form of media, it's not that graphic, for me at least), (if you don't want to read that, stop after "harvey ignores it." and start again at "harvey just..."), internalized homophobia, and some kissing

_ “it started out as a feeling,  _

_ which then grew into a hope, _

_ which then turned into a quiet thought, _

_ which then turned into a quiet word.” _

  
  
  


“Hey, you’re Wayne, right?”

Bruce startles from the book he was reading. He swings his feet over the side of the window seat, folding the corner of the page he was on and closing the book. He nods. 

“Whatcha readin’?” The boy peers down, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

Bruce holds up the book. 

“Frankenstein! That’s a good one,” he smiles brightly, and Bruce feels his heart stutter. He blushed and sunk his face lower into the collar of his turtleneck. 

The boy gestures to the cushion next to Bruce. 

“Ya mind if I sit down?”

Bruce shakes his head. 

They sit in awkward silence, Bruce picking imaginary dust off of his pants, the other boy tapping his fingers against the wood base of the seat. He purses his lips, clicking his tongue once, twice. 

“I’m not tryin’a be rude or anything, but I think the conversation would go a little smoother if you said somethin’.”

Bruce blushes again, absentmindedly chewing the inside of his shirt collar. He removes his face from the shield and clears his throat. 

“Sorry,” he practically whispers.

The boy reaches his hand out as if to pat Bruce on the back, but stops mid-motion, retracting his hand abruptly. 

“You don’t hafta apologize.”

They fall quiet again, but this time Bruce feels like the other boy is waiting for him to say something. 

“Erm...what’s your name?”

His eyes go wide, and he lightly smacks himself on the forehead. 

“Oh, duh! Sorry about that!” he grins again, this time sheepish, light pink dusting over his soft cheekbones. Bruce wishes he’d cut that out, his heart wouldn’t do well if he kept smiling like that.

“I’m Harvey. Harvey Dent. Your new roommate.”

* * *

  
  


_ “because i’ve seen you, _

_ and i know you,  _

_ and i’m not going anywhere.” _

  
  
  


“Heya, Harvey,” Bruce smiles lazily, stumbling into their room. 

Harvey sighs and sets down his pen with purpose. He turns in his chair, frown lines prominent on his forehead. 

He points at the clock on his desk, blinking innocuously. 

“It is  _ three o’clock _ , Bruce!”

Bruce makes a noncommittal noise, prioritizing shuffling through their shared minifridge for anything to eat. 

“We’re out of string cheese,” he frowns, holding up the bag in question. “Who puts back an empty bag?”

Harvey huffs.

“ _ You _ do.”

Bruce shrugs and tosses the bag into the trash can.

“Bruce, we need ta talk about your...your nightly activities.”

The boy makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, screwing up his face as he picks at an orange peel to no avail. 

“Ugh, just pass it here,” Harvey sighs.

He tosses the orange and Harvey catches it one handed and begins to peel it.

“You’ve been staying out all night drinking and who knows what else,” he squints at Bruce’s eyes suspiciously, wanting to check Bruce’s pupils but the distance between them is too great.

“And your grades...Bruce, I  _ know  _ you’re freaky smart. I swear, ya could take over for Prof Gibson in chemistry.” 

Bruce just scoffs and makes grabby hands for the freshly peeled orange. Harvey throws it at him with more force than necessary. 

“It’s fine, Harv,” he says, grinning nonchalantly. “I’ve got it.”

Harvey throws his hands in the air, cursing under his breath.

“Bruce, I just...I don’t want to watch you throw this away. I don’t want you to get expelled.

“I could get into any school I want.  _ I’m rich _ ,” Bruce snidely remarks around a bite of orange.

Harvey grimaces, tapping his pen against the desk. 

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

Bruce’s indifferent mask cracks for a moment, eyebrows leaning towards each other.

“Hey, Harv, I’m–”

“Nah, nah, it’s alright.” He stands from his desk and cracks his neck. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

Bruce just nods at him, fiddling with the last slice of orange in his hands. 

He holds it out to Harvey. 

Harvey ignores it. 

  
  


He wakes at seven to the sound of retching from their bathroom. He sighs and rolls over, intent on going back to sleep. 

He rolls over again.

And again.

And onto his back. 

He stares up at the ceiling, groaning as the gagging continues. He throws off the covers and pads toward the noise. 

Bruce is hunched over the toilet, hugging it desperately as he pukes. Harvey sighs and kneels down next to him. He gently swipes Bruce’s hair away from his face, grabs a hair band from the boy’s wrist, and tugs it into a small bun. 

Bruce gulps in air between bouts, and he uses the time to flash Harvey a tiny smile. He returns the look tiredly, and Bruce dry heaves. 

Harvey just rubs light circles on his back, prepared to wait it out with Bruce as he does everytime this happens. 

Harvey is a shining constant in Bruce’s life.

The grass is green, the sky is blue, Harvey Dent will always be there for Bruce Wayne. 

Bruce doesn’t know what he’d do without him. 

  
  


The next afternoon, Harvey is, as always, studying. He stops his work every so often to check on Bruce, snoring soundly in his bed. 

Harvey allows a small smile while he watches the boy, a sudden wave of affection sweeping over him. He doesn’t know if he should worry about that or not. Harvey, as he usually does, presses down on the strange emotions and ignores them. He stands and tucks the blanket tighter around Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce mumbles happily in response, sending a lazy smile Harvey’s way.    
“Th’nks,” he buries his face further into the pillow. And then, Harvey has to strain to listen, but he thinks Bruce says, “‘ove you.”

His ears are probably just playing tricks on him. Maybe Bruce said something else. Harvey probably misheard him. 

But, despite all that, the buried emotions bubble up inside his chest, and he feels warm, and happy, and confused. 

Harvey feels himself blush. 

* * *

  
  
_ “i’m willing but i’m weak,  _

_ so come and talk to me. _

_ i don’t wanna be, wanna be,  _

_ wanna be your enemy, love.” _

  
  


They were arguing again.

“No, Bruce, it  _ is  _ a big deal! You  _ purposely  _ failed that exam! Why? Why would ya do that?” Harvey is beyond exasperated. He’s  _ pissed _ . 

And Bruce is just sprawled on the couch, face impassive and punchable as ever. He has the audacity to shrug. 

“Oh, issat it?” Harvey mimics the gesture mockingly. 

A beat passes.

Harvey slumps into the armchair opposite Bruce, scrubs a hand over his face. He’s  _ so tired. _

“Just…” he speaks weakly through his fingers. “Bruce, I’m…” 

“You’re what?  _ Disappointed _ ?” 

Bruce looks...Harvey can’t place it. His arms are behind his head, on the surface, without a care in the world. Harvey never looks at Bruce on surface level. There’s defiance in his eyes, daring Harvey to admit he’s right. But. Alongside that glint, there’s a sheen of tears. It’s as if he’s a tense animal, poised to pounce at a given moment, ready to attack, but at the same time, filled with incredible fear, eyes wildly roaming, ready to run at the first sign of danger. Bruce looks brash, angry, scared, and  _ hurt.  _ So, so hurt. 

Harvey’s heart breaks. 

“No, Bruce. Not in you.”  _ Never you,  _ he thinks. 

Bruce snaps. 

He stands suddenly, snarling, shouting.

“Why aren’t you! Why can’t you just fucking  _ hate me _ ?!” Bruce’s teeth are bared and he screams and his eyes are feral. His fingers angrily card through his hair, arms shielding his face and he’s  _ shaking _ , he’s  _ sobbing _ .

Harvey has no idea what’s happening. 

“Bruce, what—” he chokes, forehead crinkling. 

“Don’t  _ fucking _ talk to me!”

He leaves. 

He left. 

Harvey sits in shock. He’s so confused that he’s almost tempted to laugh, but remembering Bruce’s face is enough to dry up any of the humour in this situation. 

  
  


He finds Bruce in an empty stairwell. 

His hiccupping cries echo off the walls, making it easy for Harvey to pinpoint his location. He rushes over to the boy, curled up in a ball, head between his knees, shaking like a leaf.

“Oh, Bruce,” Harvey murmurs. He kneels down, shuffles toward him cautiously. He rests a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and the boy immediately flinches back like he’s _ hurt _ , head whipping up angrily. He smacks Harvey’s hand away and his eyes are puffy and red and bitter. 

“ _ Get away from me _ ,” he hisses. 

Harvey has never been one to back down. At his core he will always stand up for what’s right, always help those in need, always find how he can help. That’s why he’s going to be a lawyer when he’s older. To help. 

He stands his ground. 

“No. Bruce, I need you to tell me what’s going on.” 

Harvey puts his hand on his shoulder again, and Bruce doesn’t react as violently this time. Harvey sees this as a good sign, and gently wraps his arm around Bruce’s trembling frame. He adds another arm, and Bruce fights back, but not for long. He gives up, and rests his head on Harvey’s chest, going practically boneless. 

As he sobs quietly, Harvey hugs him tighter and mumbles meaningless phrases to calm him. He runs his hand through Bruce’s dark curls, carefully avoiding the tender patch of missing hair that Bruce had ripped out earlier. 

All the fight is gone from Bruce, and he gulps air unevenly, like he’s underwater and can’t find the surface. 

Harvey gently helps his breathing regulate, and finally, when Bruce isn’t hiccuping, he asks, 

“Bruce, please, what’s going on?” he tucks his friend’s head underneath his chin, ignoring the wet feeling of snot and tears mixing on his shirt. 

Harvey holds his breath until Bruce whispers, voice hoarse and cracking from overuse.

“You’ll hate me.”

And,  _ oh _ , his heart  _ hurts _ . He holds Bruce even tighter, if that’s possible.

“No, Bruce. I’ll never hate you, I could never hate you,” he shushes into the other boy’s hair, holding back tears himself.

Bruce hits Harvey’s chest lightly. 

“You  _ will _ ,” he insists. 

Harvey reassures him, and continues to disagree when Bruce argues back, until Bruce finally bursts, 

“I love you and I hate myself for it.”

Harvey is stunned. 

He looks down at Bruce, whose eyes are wide as saucers, cheeks pink with embarrassment, and tears pricking in his eyes again. Bruce tries to break away. 

“I told you.” he mumbles, and his voice is so heartbroken, so  _ crushed _ that it startles Harvey back to the present. 

He grabs Bruce’s shirt and pulls him back.

“Did you mean that? You love me?”

Bruce wipes his nose on his sleeve. 

“Yeah, ‘course I did. I mean, what’s not to?” He scoffs, gesturing to all of Harvey. “Grade A student, perfect face, great hai—”

Harvey kisses him. Harvey is kissing him. 

Bruce is obviously shocked, but not as much as Harvey. He has no idea what he’s doing, but he’s been absolutely head over heels for Bruce for too long to think rationally. Bruce relaxes and brings his hand up to cup the back of Harvey’s head, pushing more into the kiss.

When they finally break away for air, Bruce knocks his head against Harvey’s and rests their foreheads together. 

Harvey can’t stifle the almost hysterical  _ giggle _ he feels climbing up his throat. Bruce joins him, and they sit there, tangled together, laughter echoing through the entire stairwell. Bruce feels the lightest he’s felt in a long time, so weightless that he could float away, but Harvey is there, firm, solid, beneath his fingers, anchoring him to earth. Harvey has an equal sense of relief and giddiness fill him, smile so wide he feels like his face can’t handle it. 

Bruce steals a kiss and whispers, “Quick, let’s get out of here before someone finds us.”

And he grabs Harvey, and they run together, hand in hand. 

* * *

  
  


_ “i don’t wanna be without ya, _

_ if you start over, can i redo mine too? _

_ anything you become, _

_ let me run beside you.” _

  
  
  


“I’ll only be out for a bit. I trust you two won’t cause too much trouble in the meantime.” Alfred smiles wryly at both boys. 

Bruce looks up from the bowl he’s concentratedly stirring. 

“Okay, Alfie!” he waves, spoon in hand, flour dusting the air. 

Alfred tsks, but there’s a tender light behind his eyes. 

The minute he closes the door, Harvey swiftly moves across the kitchen and kisses Bruce, hands on either side of his face.

Bruce laughs and protests, “Watch the bowl, Harv!”

But he still kisses him back. 

“What was that for?” Bruce smiles when Harvey pulls back. 

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I got here,” he grins. “But Alfred…”

Bruce frowns for a microsecond, a line between his eyebrows. 

“Yeah.”

But then he kisses his boyfriend again, and he’s not frowning anymore. 

They’re baking banana bread together, and there’s light streaming into the kitchen from the big windows, and everything is yellow and airy and happy. 

Harvey studies the recipe for the next ingredient he needs.

“Where’s the cinnam—” Harvey starts, but turns and sees Bruce holding it, a smug expression on all his features. Harvey resists the urge to roll his eyes, and holds out his hand for the spice. Bruce shakes his head. 

“Nope.” he pops the p, because of course he does. “This stuff isn’t free! You’re gonna have to pay up, buster.” 

Harvey grins, playing along. 

“Oh, really?” He leans against the counter, arms crossed. “What’s the price?”

Bruce’s eyes sparkle.  _ Damn, he’s beautiful _ , Harvey thinks.

“A kiss,” Bruce puckers his lips, a smile lighting his face. 

“Mm, I can do that,” Harvey sweeps Bruce into his arms, dips him, and dramatically plants a kiss on Bruce’s lips.

They both laugh (they’ve been doing more of that lately), perfectly content in that moment, lost in each other’s eyes. 

A throat clears behind them, and they both jump. 

“Shit!”

They quickly untangle, attempting to right themselves.

“Uh, hey Al.” Bruce nervously runs a hand through his long hair. “What’s, uh, what’s up?”

Alfred is, as always, the picture of composure, which also means that Bruce has no idea what he’s thinking. 

“Excuse me, sirs. It was not my intention to interrupt.” Alfred bows slightly, and promptly exits to the pantry to put away the groceries. 

Harvey looks at Bruce with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. Bruce’s face echoes his. He swallows hard and steels his shoulders. 

“Gimme a sec, okay, Harv?” 

Harvey nods, and leaves the kitchen.

Bruce takes a deep breath and walks toward the pantry. 

Alfred is busily stacking boxes on the shelf, seemingly unaware of Bruce’s presence. The boy shuffles his feet awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“Alfred, I…” he starts.

The man turns abruptly, and...there are tears in his eyes? Oh shit, this is already going worse than he thought it would. 

“Master Bruce, you know I...you know that I love you?”

Bruce stands there, confused and verging on dumbfounded. He nods mutely. 

“And nothing,  _ nothing _ could ever change that. I...I love you as my own son,” a single tear escapes his eye.

Bruce sniffs, and nods again. 

“When I walked in, I saw you smiling wider than I think I’ve ever seen you, not since—” he pauses, takes a shaky breath, and continues. “And then you saw me, and you looked so scared.  _ Bruce, _ if I have ever done anything to make you think that I...that I would not fully love you for who you are, I am so profoundly sorry. I—”

He is cut off by Bruce practically tackling him into a hug. Bruce’s lanky arms are wrapped around his waist, squeezing as tightly as they can. And he’s crying.

“Oh, my boy,” Alfred breathes. “My dear, sweet, boy.”

  
  


When they exit the pantry, Harvey is sitting at the counter, looking uncomfortable. Alfred’s arm is around Bruce, and the boy is leaning into his touch. Harvey raises his eyebrows at Bruce’s swollen and red eyes.

Bruce laughs wetly and wipes his nose on his sweatshirt sleeve, which Alfred admonishes him for. But Bruce doesn’t care. 

He smiles up at Alfred, who returns the smile so warmly that Bruce feels it in his chest. Alfred nods at both boys, and returns to the groceries. 

Bruce walks over to Harvey and kisses him lightly on the cheek. He leans his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, looking into Harvey’s eyes, and he chuckles quietly at the confused expression there. Bruce hugs him tightly, and whispers, 

“It’s okay, Harv. It’s all going to be okay.”

_ “harvey dent was his best friend.  _

_ they grew up together. _

_ he was never happier than when mr. dent came to call.” _

**Author's Note:**

> first quote from “the call” by Regina Spektor  
> second quote from “duet” by penny & sparrow  
> third quote from “enemy, love.” by john mark macmillan   
> fourth quote from “don’t wanna be without ya” by Lenny & sparrow  
> Last quote from a batman comic (I don’t know which one :( ) and said by Alfred 🥺
> 
> well, thank you if you made it this far!!  
> if enough people ask for it, i can be persuaded to add an angsty/but maybe hopeful epilogue to this.  
> don't be afraid to give a kudos or comment, I'll always respond!
> 
> (also, for those of you who've read my other works, don't worry, "what a privilege to love you" update is on its way [maybe not soon, but it's in the works])  
> love you all and hope you have a wonderful night/day!!! <3


End file.
